


Negative

by ColorWithMarker



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Multiple Partners, Natasha Feels, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:06:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorWithMarker/pseuds/ColorWithMarker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was only one thing that Natasha wanted: a child. The problem soon lies in actually creating one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negative

There were always signs to let the Avengers know when not to bother one of the members. Bruce was the obvious one – crashing into objects, turning green, and struggling to keep his self-control. Steve would draw in his sketchbook whatever was troubling him, with the most recent drawings being of metal arms and ripped-off face masks. Thor would start demanding a sparring partner, which would result in one of them being forced into sparring with him (typically Steve). Clint would find Tony’s strongest liquor and sit on the balcony, not letting anyone but Natasha talk to him. Tony would lock himself in his lab, without giving anyone, even Pepper, access.

For Natasha, it would be if she started acting… well, more human. That was the only way they could describe it. She was always masking any emotion she felt, or faking emotion to blindside people, such as Loki. Rarely, if ever, did she let her walls fall.

So when she needed a certain something in her life, needless to say it was soon obvious she was bothered by it, and it was emotionally wrecking her.

* * *

 

The first one to notice was James Barnes (she refused to call him Bucky; that was Steve’s name for him). She had found him and they left for Russia. They lived in a home kilometers from civilization, sparring and retelling horror stories of their pasts. They were quite similar, both being much older than they physically appeared and “reprogrammed” to remember only specific missions. Neither knew how to express themselves emotionally, or rather refused to when the opportunity was there.

They grew close. They learned to touch each other outside of punches and kicks, starting with gentle hands upon the face or arm. Later, they could treat each other’s wounds, from accidental stabs and slices. Once, while wrapping a bandage around Natalia’s (not Natasha, like not Bucky) torso, James leaned forward and kissed the nape of her neck. They avoided each other for the rest of the evening.

The kiss on the neck turned into kisses on the forehead and cheek when leaving to buy needs for the home. Kisses on the cheek (and once on the lips, when Natalia felt particularly daring) to say goodnight. Hands also grew braver, resting against waists and hips, or on the upper thigh when leaning against each other and watching television on lazy days. They knew what they wanted, and that the other wanted it just as much, but no one wanted to be the first to crack. It was almost a game to see who could hold out the longest.

Natalia won by a hair. While showering, James pulled back the curtain, as nude as she was, and didn’t hesitate pulling her into a long-anticipated kiss that she was just about to instigate. Instead, she reached out to turn off the running water and jumped into James’ arms. He carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed.

They were gentle with each other. He placed his metal hand over her neck once, but the squeeze was gentle and erotic for her. She kissed up his arm, his neck, all over his face, with nails scraping gently along his back. His thrusts were slow-paced, whispers of sweet Russian were exchanged, cries of pleasure echoed in James’ bedroom.

The following morning, when Natalia woke up to find James spooning her in his sleep, she let herself smile before laying her head back down and dozing off.

Natalia was adamant that she was to get their weekly supply of groceries the following time. When she returned, James was banned from the kitchen as she unpacked, and later the bathroom when she said she wanted absolute privacy for the next ten minutes. He had noticed the small rectangular box tucked up her left jacket sleeve, but knew not to ask. If she wanted him to know, then she would say so. Instead, he announced that he would start dinner and made his way to the kitchen.

Natalia reached up her sleeve and pulled out the box – the pregnancy test. She felt she was a few days late, and she was full of fear and hope. Fear of being pregnant, and hope that she could finally bring a child into the world. Not all assassins, or women, were fond of the idea, but in her more-than-eighty years of life, she had been filled with the idea of motherhood, to have a person to love unconditionally that would always be there for her. She found that a child was the only way to have this, and thus craved it. Having this child be James’ too made the idea all the better.

She tapped her fingernails against the countertop as she sat on the lidded toilet seat, counting the seconds in her hand to when she’d receive her results. She felt oddly giddy, anticipating the little plus sign on the stick. After adding an extra thirty seconds to her count, she grabbed the stick and read the results.

She blinked. Twice. Thrice. Six more times. The test still read negative.

How was this possible? Nothing added up. She and James were in the right time of her cycle to reproduce. Neither had used any contraceptives. She hadn’t started bleeding yet. She should be pregnant. So why wasn’t she?

That night, she and James slept in separate beds. The following afternoon, she found blood in her underwear. It still made no sense.

The test and box was burned behind the house.

* * *

 

Ensuing months were filled with endless sex. James had no problem at first, and rather enjoyed Natalia’s desperation for his touch. But he knew there was a motive behind her actions, and the curiosity was eating him alive. He was smart enough not to ask, so he took up an old hobby: spying. He picked up on her new habit of resting her hands against her stomach, rubbing it gently. She was more protected of her midriff during their sparring sessions, and once broke her forearm doing so. And then there was the grocery shopping privacy that only happened once a month, followed by concealing a box in a sleeve, boot, or pocket while locking herself in the bathroom. It took him two months to put two and two together.

“So, was the test positive or negative?” he asked during a night of television. He felt her curl up tighter. “I’ve noticed the boxes a while ago. It just took me time to understand why.”

“They’re all negative,” Natalia said quietly. “I don’t know why.”

James knew why. He’d met other Red Room girls (not quite) like Natalia, and they had the same problem. But telling her would be heartbreaking. “It’s probably me,” he said. “I had been pumped full of drugs, many of them being steroids. My sperm cell count is probably too low to impregnate you.” As true and probable this was, he knew this wasn’t true; HYDRA wanted to keep him capable of reproduction in case they wanted more like him. “I’m sorry.” That was very true.

Natalia nodded slowly. “I see,” she said quietly.

The next morning, she had her bags packed. She was going to New York for a little bit, to let this predicament settle with her in peace. Also, she needed to get more practice outside of sparring, and wouldn’t mind kicking a few asses her and there in the city.

James kissed her goodbye. Natalia hesitated to reciprocate.

He promised to wait for her return. She nodded, but did not promise to return.

He knew she would.

* * *

The Avengers were doing fine without her. With SHIELD compromised and the other superheroes split up around the world, they were almost unneeded. Instead, they took up hobbies. Bruce and Tony did experiments. Clint taught archery, and had picked up a prodigy, Kate Bishop, who started frequenting around the Avengers Tower to keep Clint in line. Thor spent time between the Avengers Tower, Jane’s labs in New Mexico and London, and Asgard. Steve was overflowed with a list of what he needed to catch up on. Right now, he and Sam were binge-watching ever episode and film of Star Trek, all of which Tony owned.

Natasha took up ballet at a local studio. Between that and her numerous acrobatic abilities, she was the top of the class. When one of the other girls asked how long she’d been dancing – “ _I_ started when I was two,” she added in a snobby tone – Natasha smiled and said, “Longer than your parents have been alive.”

She performed seven pieces at the studio’s recital one month later, two being solos. All of the Avengers were there, along with Jane, Darcy, Pepper, Happy, Sam, Kate Bishop, and her friends, a group of odd kids who Natasha suspected had hidden powers of their own. None of them knew of her dancing abilities, and all were impressed with her talent.

Clint bought her a bouquet of roses and left them on the dresser in her bedroom. He didn’t have to leave her a note. She knew they were from him.

She should be happy. But there was still that one problem itching at her.

She still wanted a child.

* * *

Clint was the first man she tried with. He was also the obvious choice. His crush on her is what saved her life, after all. It was a running joke that she was his work wife. (When Kate asked what that made her, he said it made her Kate, because she wasn’t one you could title.) So she waited until all the other Avengers were abed or occupied before slinking into Clint’s room. She remained hidden in plain sight for all of five seconds.

“Something up, Nat?” he asked. He sat up in the bed, rubbing his eyes with a closed fist, wearing only boxer shorts. Perfect.

Natasha crawled across the bed and nearly attacked him when she kissed him. Clint, never one to question or turn down sex, pushed back against her. The two had a battle for dominance, which Natasha let Clint win, because she was near-desperate for a man’s touch again. She let him strip her, rub her, kiss her, do whatever he wanted to her, because when he finally penetrated her, she felt that _this_ would be the time when the equation came out balanced.

When all was said and done, and the two were lying in bed, Natasha thought of James, and how she never imagined feeling comfortable alongside another man like this. Sure, he was Clint, but he wasn’t James.

This thought didn’t develop much further, before she wondered if the child would inherit her or Clint’s power.

* * *

Five days later and another negative pregnancy test, Natasha found herself truly confused for the first time in her life.

* * *

The next four times she had sex with Clint (which, in order of the times she had sex with any of the men after leaving Russia, were the second, third, sixth, and tenth times) also had no result.

* * *

The fourth and fifth times Natasha had sex were both with Tony. Pepper had found out about Tony’s new project, the Hulkbuster suit, and decided that was the last straw. She and Happy both departed for the airport, and took the Stark Jet to the West Coast, the actual location kept secretive from Tony on Pepper’s orders to JARVIS.

Tony was heartbroken. Natasha knew exactly what Tony wanted when he was in this state, and waited for him on his bed, wearing a gossamer black nightgown and nothing else. When an inebriated Tony stumbled in, he didn’t hesitate to strip down and fuck her senseless.

He didn’t remember what had happened. Two nights later, with Tony being sober, Natasha helped him remember.

These times were both fruitless.

* * *

The seventh and ninth were with Sam Wilson. He was also an obvious choice. He was like any other man, who found themselves attracted to any pretty girl they saw. All Natasha had to do was invite him out to a nearby bar before they moved on to a motel room the first time they tried. He had been more nervous than he let on, and she guided him through, letting him know where she liked to be touched and how to give her the most pleasure.

The next time they had sex, Sam was much more assertive, going as far as to tie Natasha’s wrists to the bedposts with two of Tony’s scarves.

By now, Natasha was already having doubts.

* * *

The eighth time was with Steve. Anyone with a pair of eyes and common sense knew that Steve had no experience with sex, between being a scrawny, sickly kid before the serum and being frozen for seventy years. Natasha also knew he was a private person, and wouldn’t share any sexual experiences with anyone, such as their impromptu kiss on the escalator. He trusted her enough to let her take his virginity.

He’d been nearly clumsy, apologizing profusely for bumping her nose or not knowing what to do with his tongue. Eventually, she had him lie on his back and took over. She put his hands on her hips as she rode him, telling him that he was doing great and no, don’t be embarrassed, just do what he thought was right. She was caught off-guard when he flipped her over and assumed control in a way that only James would dominate her. She nearly said James’ name a few times, but wasn’t sure if Steve heard it over his own pants and grunts.

Steve was red in the face when Tony high-fived him the next morning. All of the male Avengers – including Thor, who was in town, and excluding Bruce, who didn’t drink – took him out to drink and celebrate.

Natasha didn’t celebrate when she began bleeding the next morning.

* * *

After explaining her predicament to the scientist, Natasha’s eleventh attempt was with Thor, who both received her blessing from Jane.

Thor was rough out of nature, taking complete control of the situation before Natasha could make the first move. She was surprised that Jane hadn’t broken any bones from sex with Thor. In fact, Natasha couldn’t move her body from the waist down without feeling any pain in her pelvic region.

“I must ask, Lady Natasha,” Thor said as he redressed, “why you insisted on having intercourse with me.”

“What do you mean, why?” Natasha replied, as if she didn’t know.

“I’ve noticed that some of our friends are also claiming they have shared a bed with you. Was I just another notch in your bedpost?”

“No, Thor, I swear you aren’t. And there is a reason behind this. It’s just… complicated.”

Thor nodded and smiled. He knew when to stop asking questions. He helped Natasha dress and brought her pain killers and water, before bidding her a good night and returned to Jane’s side.

* * *

Eleven negative tests from the Avengers, and numerous more from James, and Natasha wasn’t so sure that other people were the problem.

* * *

In a battle against the Enchantress and the Executioner, Amora’s sister Lorelei snuck up behind Natasha and stabbed her in the stomach. Lorelei was quickly smashed into the ground (and by the looks of it, possibly killed off) by the Hulk, who carried Natasha to the safety of an abandoned building. By the time the Hulk reverted to Bruce, Natasha had lost quite a lot of blood. Bruce tore off part of his pants and held it against the open wound.

“I promise, I won’t let you die,” he said, pressing tighter. Natasha wondered if he was truly calm or if the other guy had drained all his anger.

“Does this mean I can’t have children?” she thought aloud, not caring if Bruce heard her.

He did. “What?”

“If the stab was anywhere near my uterus, that means…” Natasha snorted, “not only bye-bye bikini, but bye-bye kids, too.”

When reinforcements finally arrived and Natasha and Bruce were flown back to the Avengers Tower, Bruce told the doctors to make sure Natasha wasn’t rendered infertile.

* * *

As per request, all files related to Natasha’s injury and surgery were hand-delivered to Bruce. He read and reread them before setting them down and wringing his hands. He didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but it seemed he didn’t have a choice.

* * *

Natasha had woken up just as Bruce entered the medical bay. She also knew she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

“While significant damage has been fixed in your uterus from your stab wound, it was restored to be good-as-new,” he began.

She nodded, letting the information sink in. “If that’s the good news, what’s the bad news?” she asked.

Bruce hesitated. Skirting around it was pointless. “You’re infertile. Not because of Lorelei, though. It seems it’s from your days in the Soviet Union, back in the thirties or forties. You haven’t been able to have children _ever_.”

Natasha’s response was the single-most terrifying thing anyone had ever witnessed: she cried.

* * *

It took her one week to recover enough to leave the medical bay, and another two and a half to fully recover. Once she had, Tony booked a flight on the Stark Jet to Russia. All of the Avengers and friends were on board, but only Bruce dared to sit next to Natasha.

“I understand what it feels like,” he had said on the day she learned the truth. “What it feels like to have something you truly want in life taken away from you. And it’s a struggle to get back on your feet, it truly is. You’ll want to give up so many times. You’ll feel like there’s nothing left. And when you have those days, you have to think of those who are in your life and make your life worth living. Think of me, because I’ll be there to sympathize with you any time you need me.”

She programmed his number in her phone as a second emergency contact, right after James.

They said their goodbyes on the plane, minutes before landing. Steve made her promise to write at least once a month. Tony offered unlimited financial support now that their SHIELD cards were useless. Sam thanked her again for helping save his ass in DC. Thor promised that Russia was on his list of places to visit when he came to Earth. Kate Bishop said she’ll continue keeping Clint in line. Clint shook her hand, awkwardly mumbling he didn’t know what else to do. Bruce gave her the best hug she’d ever received in her life.

* * *

 

James was waiting with their car when the plane landed. Steve locked himself in the cockpit until the jet took off again.

James told Natalia they could adopt. She told him it wasn’t the same, but it was a possibility.

* * *

 

They went back to being sparring buddies, and sometimes friends with benefits. Natalia joined a dance company in Russia, once again becoming the star pupil. Whenever there were recitals, she told the Avengers, all of whom sat in the audience with James. She wrote letters twice a month, and talked to Bruce every week for mental support.

She wasn’t truly content with her life, but she made do with what she had. That’s what she was programmed for.


End file.
